


C'mon

by InfraVioletUltraRed



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfraVioletUltraRed/pseuds/InfraVioletUltraRed





	C'mon

From where you stood on the deck, you could still see the party going on within the house in snippets through the blinds, not quite drawn. You sighed and took another sip of your drink, turning around to rest your arms on the deck’s railing and stare into the pool, still hearing and feeling the music bleed out of the house and ripple through the boards under your feet.

So you didn’t see him as he came up behind you, his own drink in hand, until he plopped his forearms onto the deck in the same position you were in, and asked, “Mind if I join you?”

You weren’t against company. You grinned warmly and told him sure. A silent moment passed between you, before he turned to you, extending a hand cooled and wetted by his drink’s sweating and introduced himself.  “I’m Prompto.”

You took his hand, trying not to jump back when your hand met his cold skin, and shook. “Y/n. Your hand is _freezing_.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” He took his hand from yours and wiped it on his pants. “It was wet, too. That must have been a bad first impression.”

You giggled. “I mean, _technically_ my first impression was you slamming your elbows down on my friend’s deck after sneaking up on me.”

He paled, then turned a striking shade of red. “Oh, man. So I’m just doing really badly tonight, huh?”

“Not so badly I won’t let you stick around.” You smiled and shrugged, turning yourself to face the pool again, your gaze pointed down to the white tiled bottom. The lights lining the pool’s walls were on, giving the pool water a bit of an eerie glow, so you knew your friend was expecting people to swim in it. On such a sticky night, why wouldn’t they?

So you walked your way off the deck, gently taking Prompto’s hand to take him with you.

“Where are we going?”

“Just to the pool,” you told him. You opened the gate to the pool side of the deck and held it for Prompto to follow you. When he had come in, you closed the gate and slipped off your shoes, leaving them where they’d fallen from your feet and taking off everything that would come between you and the water—that is, you rolled up your pant legs. That was about it, really. You laughed to yourself as you sat at the edge of the pool, dipping your feet into the water.

As he sat next to you, having done the same as you re: pant legs and his socks and shoes, you craned your neck back to look up at the sky. You couldn’t see much in this part of town—too many lights—but you could see enough. There were a few stars twinkling in the sky, which was the deep blue it became in the heat of summer and the dead of winter, when the sun was at its extremes. You scanned the sky for the moon, and when you found it, let out an “oh.”

“What?” You turned to look at Prompto, having nearly forgotten he was there next to you, and found his head was tilted skyward as well. When he felt your eyes on him and you hadn’t said anything, he cast his eyes towards you sidelong. You quickly snapped your gaze back to the sky.

How ha you not noticed his eyes before? They were even prettier than the sky was right now. You pointed up at the moon. “You see that rainbow hazy thing around the moon?”

He nodded, then realized you probably couldn’t see him—and you wouldn’t if you hadn’t been looking at him out of the corner of your eye—and he added a “yeah.”

“Well, it’s water vapor trapping moonlight, and water vapor in the atmosphere catching light like that? Means rain. It _could_ mean snow, but I doubt that’s likely in this heat. In the winter, though.” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes again and saw him nod.

“Cool.”

“it is.” You were about to say something else, but your train of thought was derailed by a sudden weight and warmth on your hand. You looked down to see Prompto’s hand blanketing yours. You were keenly aware of the bass-y pulse from the house and the buzz of cicadas, and the thick air and somehow, Prompto’s hand was still so much warmer than the air around you two and he was there and

Wow. His lips looked really soft and pink… and he had freckles. A lot of them. Who needed the constellations up in the sky when he had a thousand or more possible constellations of his own, right there on his skin?

You were almost halfway through the action—too late to back out—when you realized you were turning your upper body and cupping his cheek with the hand not covered by his, preparing for a kiss. Your lips made feathery contact with his, and you shut your eyes, feeling your eyelashes brush just barely against the corner of his eye, and that in turn emboldened you, applying more pressure.

And then! He seemed to be roused into it, kissing you back, and suddenly all your pressure was lost, having been matched. It was just as well; you didn’t want a battle.

One of you breathed harder than the other, and this was an unspoken signal to break. So you both pulled back, causing that often-mocked slight pop of a kiss disengaging. You blinked a few times, feeling heat spreading across your face. Those freckles of his you’d been so fixated on were now standing out against his intense blush, almost as if you were being mocked—look at them now, a reminder of slight shame.

_But it had felt so good._

“I’m… sorry, Prompto. That was really aggressive of me and I shouldn’t have been impulsive and I—”

He paused you with a quiet “shh,” a gentle but near-beatific smile on his face. “It’s fine. Is your friend going to be okay with us making out in their pool?”

“Well, we’re hardly in the pool, or in the process of making out anymore.”

His smile turned more mischievous, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Do you want to be?”

You didn’t say anything, just pecked him on the lips and stood up, peeling off your pants and then your shirt.

He laughed. “That went over better than I thought it would.” He was shaking water off his feet and stripping, too.

Your clothes were already off, so you decided to just relax and enjoy the show. Gods, he was just all muscle, wasn’t he? Oh, no, there were a few stretch marks snaking up from underneath the waistband of his boxers—did all men own the same color and pattern of plaid boxers?

You shooed that pointless thought away and instead tried to slip into the pool silently. Prompto was already in the water by the time you’d made it in with minimal splashing. As such, he immediately scooped you up. His mouth was on you instantly, and you were eager to let him devour you.

Your head was tipped back, entirely relaxed into the kiss, and rested comfortably cradled in Prompto’s hand as he moved from mouth to your neck. Your breaths came out in tiny puffs as you tried to keep them under control, really hoping to avoid an incriminating sigh or moan. Prompto dropped you onto your feet again, the water splashing against you, and his hands moved to your hips to hold you flush against him. His skin was cool from the water, but you were sure yours was even cooler. This was certainly a session full of new sensations.

You couldn’t let yourself get distracted, not when there was so much more to sense.

Things after that were a bit of a haze—a very pleasant, dreamy haze. You could remember better what you hadn’t done that what you had, though that was because you’d been the one to make that decision, saying something about not wanting water anywhere it wasn’t already, or being *ahem* forced anywhere by mistake.

So hands had been places, mouths had been fewer places, and now you two were floating in the pool, naked, with Prompto’s head on your chest. He’d been concerned momentarily that your position would somehow affect the floating, but you assured him it would be fine. And it was.

Now you watched wispy clouds float across the sky, and tried to find the stars again while the tiny swells of pool water lapped at your sides, all the while absently running your fingers through Prompto’s now-wet hair.

It was peaceful, the only sounds watery whooshing and muffled music further muffled by the water covering your ears. That is, there was peace and quiet until you heard the telltale squeak and snap of the house’s screen door. The music got louder for a moment as the door was open, then quieted as the door clapped shut, but at that point, you were hearing the voices of other guests, so the peace was fully shattered.

You felt Prompto tense as the voices came towards the pool, and you tried to calm him with your fingers in his hair, but you had to be honest with yourself—you were getting nervous, too.  So you didn’t move.

The guests sounded amused as they said, “ah, seems like someone already beat us out here to the pool.” They hadn’t seen you yet; they’d probably only heard the water and seen your shoes. Gently, you pushed Prompto off you and started for the edge of the pool. When he made a noise that you could only interpret as confusion, you took his hand, and then stayed put. They would know what was up anyway.

You looked towards the house, starting to babble about something as the screen door opened again, spilling more people out onto the deck, kicking off shoes and putting down drinks. Behind you, the first people to head for the pool jumped in with a splash. You hadn’t heard clothes hit the deck…

More splashing, more voices. But no “I can’t get it off,” no belt jingling, zippers, or the sound of shirts billowing in an arc off the wearer’s body.

You and Prompto were naked in a pool full of clothed swimmers.

Oh, well. A lot of them, you figured, were pretty drunk and wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. So you just pressed your chest against Prompto’s to hide a little bit, and took advantage of the closeness to steal another kiss.

Well, if you could steal what was readily being given up.

You two were the last to leave the pool, drying yourselves with towels your friend had brought out when it seemed _everyone_ was in the pool, and dressed yourselves slowly, as if you were half-asleep. Then you both sat on one pool chair, looking at the sky again. Well, Prompto was looking at the sky. You were looking at him, trying to connect the dots of his freckles into a constellation you could remember forever, would sketch in the edges of notes and on your wrists. You would name it something artsy so people wouldn’t laugh because you wouldn’t have to say, “oh, it was a pattern in the freckles of some guy I met at a party and made out with in my friend’s pool.”

But then, you didn’t have to, because he pressed his forehead to your arm and said, quietly, “I’m so glad I didn’t leave this party when I was going to. I’m glad I went out the back door and saw you.”

“Aw.”

“I’d like to keep seeing you, Y/n.”

“What, you mean like keep hanging out?” you asked, feeling like you were missing something.

“Now, sure, and in the future. Let me give you my number.”

You handed over your phone and he typed in the number and his name, which he listed as “Prompto (guy from the pool)” and you giggled as he lifted your phone to take a selfie for the contact picture.

When he handed you your phone back, you were still laughing, though you elaborated, “I’ll know who you are.”

“I’m sure you will.”

_

You texted him as soon as you got home, but you found another text on your phone as well:

_Txt: Hey, Y/n. I was just cleaning up after the party and I found these. I don’t have encyclopedic knowledge of them, but aren’t these your lucky ones?_

You opened the picture message from your friend, and… oh. Your underwear had fallen out of your pocket. _Great._


End file.
